


No One Can Run Forever

by Simpscone



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:12:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simpscone/pseuds/Simpscone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He needs these moments. He doesn't know why. Feelings are hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Can Run Forever

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't writing it what feels like years and is probably more like... years. So this is sort of a starter to myself, a drabble if you will. I'm still having Castiel feelings and I don't like it. Nobody likes it.

Sometimes, he just closes his eyes and feels. It's almost a novelty, feeling as another species might. Contrary to what his comrades may believe, his family have never been hardhearted soldiers, mindlessly following the status quo. _"Like being chained to a comet."_ a wrecked man once said. And that's true.

How else could one possibly control masses of such pure, raw energy than to strip away its ideas of freewill? To delete the moments of disobedience, and confine it to a small - much too small - feeble vessels.

So, he understands, now, that which he wishes he knew long ago. In a time of uncertainty and turmoil, breaking his chains and stumbling through his own choices for (not) the first time in his existence.

As usual, he made the wrong ones. He was only trying to do what was right.

And thus, it came to pass that comets lit up in the night sky, all across the globe. People watched in awe and wonder. People cried. People fell.

Everything feels wrong now. Unhinged, somehow. He watched helplessly, as everything he was, or ever could be, was ripped away from him... and he felt empty.

And yet... a comet unleashed is a very powerful thing indeed. His light was gone ( _alltheirlightsaregonehisfaultallhisfault_ ) but his tattered soul remains.

With this ragged, empty soul came all the feelings angels were never supposed to know. Raw, clawing from the insides out, needing to rip flesh from bone, to _escape_ because a warm, familiar and safe inner glow has been replaced with the harsh, dead white light of mortality and he feels... well, he just _feels._

After the initial gut wrenching agony subsides, it almost becomes manageable. Days turn to weeks. Weeks to months. It gets better. Sometimes, he smiles when the right friend speaks. He talks some more. Learns. Lives.

But no one can run forever. Sometimes it's in a dusty old motel room, sometimes on the road whilst discussing the next case, sometimes its when he's looking down the barrel of a gun and knowing how useless it is against the demons staring him down.

So, he closes his eyes, and sees his brothers and sisters burning onto the backs of his eyelids. Knows the penance he can never pay. Knows the agony. 

Castiel feels.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know your thoughts! Bare in mind this is a drabbley thing and I haven't got word so grammatical and spelling errors are a possibility please don't hate me I love you come 'ere friends let's hug it out.


End file.
